


Occupational Hazard

by AshKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshKnight/pseuds/AshKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills is a homicide detective with a particularly challenging vice. Emma Swan is a prostitute who fills her need for human connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll Warm You Up

Detective Mills was not exactly a  _bad_ cop. In fact, her record was surprisingly pristine. However, the young detective did have a bit of a secret life that she kept closely guarded. She wasn't particularly proud of it, but she wasn't exactly ashamed of it either. She simply knew it would jeopardize the career she had worked so hard for and would cause her to lose the respect of her peers. Even so, it was a life she still pursued.

After one particularly stressful day on the job, as she paced back and forth in her bedroom, having just slipped out of her uniform, she considered her options carefully. Of course, every time she made the choice to engage in this double life, she risked her career, but that night especially, she found herself unable to resist.

She dressed in a classy, but skin-tight skirt with a formal jacket and dabbed herself with a few drops of her nicest perfume before heading out, making sure to put in her finest pair of diamond earrings, whose brightness contrasted greatly with the darkness of her hair. It was well past one in the morning, so the city of Boston was mostly at rest, but the detective knew exactly where to go to find the night-owls.

Boston's little-known red-light district was not far from the detective's apartment downtown, so it was a short drive a few blocks away that brought the woman to her destination. It wasn't long before she found what she was looking for, in the form of a young blonde woman standing on the street corner, wearing nearly nothing. Her dress was as tight as the detective's, but far more revealing, and the bright red color flattered her pale skin tone.

As the detective pulled her Mercedes up to the curb, she rolled down the window.

"I'm not usually into blondes."

The other woman looked up and smirked, her eyes flickering with passion.

"I'm not picky," she responded, walking up to the car and leaning on the door where the window was open.

"How much?" the detective asked, leaning in.

"I charge the average, like any reasonable woman would."

"Something tells me you're worth a little more than that."

This caught the blonde off guard, and she hesitated a moment before putting her hand on the door handle. The detective unlocked it immediately, and as soon as the other woman heard the sound, she got in and sat in the passenger seat.

"Where to?"

"Anywhere you'd like, Princess."

The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Don't pretend to be all chivalrous," she laughed. "I'm sure you didn't unlock your car doors to wine and dine me."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve respect."

Again, the blonde laughed and shook her head.

"God. You sound like a fucking cop."

The woman was nearly thrown into the dashboard as the car pulled over and came screeching to an abrupt halt. The detective's eyes were fixed on the woman beside her, their gaze deadly and serious.

"I suggest you shut your fucking mouth about things you don't understand and just do your fucking job."

"Jesus Christ. Hit a nerve, did I? I bet you really are a cop. You're probably wearing a fucking wire right now."

"Hey!" the detective shouted, grabbing the girl's arm. "Let me tell you something. If I were wearing a wire, I'd have already made the bust when you confirmed our little transaction. That being said, if you say one more goddam word about my being a fucking cop, I  _will_ drag your fucking ass to the station, where you'll be booked and processed. Not to mention, there, they'll make you spread your cheeks and they  _won't_ pay you. Now... Do we have an understanding?"

As shocked as the woman looked, she nodded her head, prompting the detective to let go of her arm, as she replied, "Yeah. Sure. I won't say anything else about it."

"To anyone."

"Yeah. To anyone."

The rest of the ride was silent as the detective drove them to a nearby hotel. Judging by the look on the young woman's face, it wasn't the type of place she was used to visiting.

"Ever been here before?" the detective asked slowly as she pulled into the parking garage.

"N-No," the woman stammered. "I can't say that I have. Most people... I mean..."

"I think you'll find that I'm not most people."

Though certainly skeptical, this brought a small smile to the woman's face that remained as they found a parking spot and exited the car.

"Alright. So here's how this is going to work. You're going to take this cash and go in and get a room. I'm going to go in separately and get one too, and then I'll meet you upstairs once I have my key. Alright?"

"Wow. You sure don't wanna be seen with a hooker, do ya?"

"I can't afford to, and that's nothing against you, my dear. It's just... Well... Let's just say that my lifestyle isn't exactly conducive to this kind of thing."

"That's alright, sweetie. Discretion is usually the name of the game."

"Especially in my case. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Then let's go."

* * *

The blonde's interaction with the well-dressed gentleman at the front desk was rather uncomfortable, seeing as he looked exceptionally suspicious, given her excessively revealing outfit. Still, money is what talks, and she was able to secure a key to a room on the third floor. Fifteen minutes later, the detective walked in alone and gave the same request, though hers was not returned with questioning looks and concerned glances.

Upstairs, the young woman waited in the hallway with her arms crossed as she leaned against the door to the room that was hers for the night.

"Well?" she asked, upon seeing the detective appear in the hallway.

"Well what?"

"My room or yours?"

The brunette smiled and gestured to the door behind the other woman, and the two entered the room in silence.

After the blonde sat on the bed, saying nothing, the detective finally asked, "So, what's your name?"

"You first, pretty lady," the woman said with a cheeky grin.

"That's hilarious. Really, though. What's your name?"

"My name is whatever you want it to be tonight, baby."

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit. What's your real name?"

"And why would I tell you that?"

"Because," Detective Mills began, walking over and standing in front of the woman she'd employed for the night, "I'm a homicide detective, and if you don't, I'll find it out anyway."

The woman's eyes widened as she considered her choices carefully, but she decided on honesty.

"Emma," she said finally. "My name is Emma."

"That, my dear," the brunette said with a smile, "is a beautiful name."

"Alright. Now, come on. Tell me yours."

The detective shook her head, shaking her dark locks of hair around her shoulders.

"No, thank you."

"That's not fair."

"It's perfectly fair. If you knew my name you could ruin my career."

"I could just give them a physical description and they'd know exactly who you are. I guarantee there's no one as pretty as you on the police force anywhere in Massachusetts."

"I... That's..." the dark-haired woman stammered. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. You're gorgeous. I've never worked for anyone like you before."

"Then tonight will be an adventure for both of us. As I said, I typically don't prefer blondes."

At first, the woman considered saying something snarky and possibly rude, but decided against it and chose instead to simply ask, "Why?"

"I had a bad experience with a blonde once and it's ruined them for me forever? Is that the sob story you want me to tell?" Sighing, the detective continued, "You're right, though. It's not fair, and you could easily give my description and identify me if you desired to do so. That being the case, I don't suppose it'll hurt to tell you, although I've never told any other... Well, you know. Actually, no one's ever guessed that I was a cop before."

"Really?" the woman asked in disbelief. "It was kind of obvious. Who else hates themselves enough to get dressed up for a hooker?" The detective's lips parted slowly as she stared at the blonde, not knowing how to respond, so the woman added, "So, what is the name of my ever-so-unique employer?"

"Regina," the brunette managed. "Regina Mills."

"Now  _that_ is a beautiful name," the young woman told her employer with a smile. "I love it. It suits you." After a pause, she added, "I've seen your name in the papers. You've solved a lot of cold cases in the few years you've been working for the force."

"It hasn't been that few. I'm not as young as you think."

"That doesn't matter," Emma told her. Then, she asked, "So what would you like to do? As I'm sure you're aware, the price depends on-"

"Price isn't an issue." Regina emptied her wallet onto the bed, exposing several hundred dollars in cash, saying, "You have to understand, Emma. This is my only hobby."

The woman laughed and shook her head.

"I seriously doubt that. Come on. There has to be something you love to do, other than fucking hookers on the weekends."

"Well... I like to read. But that's really it. Anyway, enough about me. Let's... Um..."

"You look kind of nervous. But you've done this before?"

Regina nodded.

"It's a rather unfortunate compulsion, I'm afraid."

"Then why are you so unsure of yourself? Most people kinda... you know. Dive right in. Not much talk. You, though... You're..."

"Listen, I just..."

"Look, it's okay. I don't know you. You don't know me. It can be awkward. But it doesn't have to be, alright? Why don't you let me relax you a little bit? Sit next to me?"

At first, Regina hesitated, but she sat down beside the woman on the bed, and was relatively surprised when she began to remove her jacket and proceeded to expertly rub her shoulders.

"That's... That's actually really nice."

"You're really tense. Your job must be tough."

"Let's not talk about my job right now, okay?" Regina snapped, her muscles tensing even more.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just..."

"It's fine."

Eventually, the tension between them, and the tension between the detective's shoulder blades, dissipated. As this happened, the blonde began to slide her hands further down Regina's back, then slowly lifted her shirt, making sure to maintain contact with the woman's skin as she slid the garment up. Once it was removed, Emma noticed the goosebumps on the woman's arms and chest.

"It's... It's kind of cold in here," the brunette commented, seeing that the woman had noticed.

"That's okay," Emma whispered. "I'll warm you up."


	2. Again

After she climaxed, the rough sex they'd just had having drained the rest of her energy, Regina lay breathless on the bed as the blonde ran her fingers through the brunette's soft locks of hair.

"Wear you out, did I?" Emma asked with a small smile, brushing her thumb over the woman's tanned cheek.

"Actually, that was incredible."

"You came pretty hard, didn't you?"

"Uh... Yeah. That was... That was really, really good."

"Good. I'm glad I could please you."

Regina opened her eyes and looked into the blonde's, her breaths heavy and labored.

"I want you to fuck me again. Harder this time."

Emma raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Quite the appetite you have, huh?"

"For you, yeah. To be honest, once is usually enough, but tonight..."

"It's alright, darling. With what you paid me, you've got me all night."

Emma slid her fingers gracefully between the detective's legs, rubbing gentle circles at first, until Regina's breathing became even more intense.

"Harder," the brunette moaned softly, gripping the sheets.

Emma obeyed her employer and slid her fingers into the woman's core, making her cry out. She quickened the pace of her thrusts and increased her force, then used her other hand to squeeze Regina's breasts. This continued until the detective was panting and gasping for air.

"Hit me," she finally managed.

The blonde froze and stared down at the woman she was fucking.

"What?"

"Just hit me. Please. I need to feel it."

"Are... Are you sure?"

"Just fucking hit me!"

Biting her lip, Emma pulled her arm back and swung, slapping an open hand across the detective's face.

"Again," Regina breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.

The blonde alternated between thrusting her fingers inside the woman's core with her other hand with each request, until Regina's cheeks were red from heat and pain. Eventually, after one more plea of, "Harder," her muscles began to contract from her orgasm, and she soaked the woman's fingers with her relief.

"You okay?" Emma finally asked, when the detective said nothing, her chest rising and falling as she breathed heavily.

"I'm... I'm..."

"Miss Mills? Hey, can you look at me?"

The woman opened her eyes again and bit her lip, managing only, "I have to see you again."

The blonde hesitated, but replied, "I try not to have repeat clients. It creates-"

"Trouble keeping your work life and private life separate?"

"No! It creates conflict by encouraging jealousy of my clients, and that simply complicates my job and makes it harder for me overall."

"Emma, please," Regina pleaded, her tone softening as she ran her hands down the woman's arms. "I have to see you again. I've never-"

"Please don't say that. It was just a fuck, alright?"

"Maybe. But it was a damn good fuck. Please, just do this for me. No one's ever fucked me like you just did, and I've had a lot of fucks in my life."

Biting her lip, the woman finally conceded.

"I should go," Regina said suddenly, sitting up and reaching for her bra which was beside her on the bed. " _Please_ call me when you have a free night. I'll pay you whatever you want. I just need to see you again."

"I will. I'll call you."

With that, Regina reached into her purse and pulled out one of her business cards, handing it to the woman before quietly leaving the room, leaving Emma slightly stunned.

* * *

When Regina's cell phone rang two days later and she saw a number she didn't recognize, she was quick to answer the call.

"Detective Mills."

"Hey. It's your friend from downtown... You told me to call. I just wanted to let you know I'm free tonight if you're interested."

"I'm in. What time?"

"Anytime past eight."

"Um... That's kind of early for me. Can I... Would you mind my taking you to dinner first?"

"Uh... Sorry?"

"Dinner. You know... Food?"

"I don't usually-"

"Look, I know. But I'm not everyone, remember? I'll cover it. Just... Please? I'd really like to see you."

After a pause, the woman finally answered, "Alright. But I thought you didn't want to be seen with me?"

"I changed my mind. How do you feel about sushi?"

"I'm more of a grilled cheese kind of girl, to be honest."

"How about the South Street Diner? It's pretty good for greasy, late-night food. I'm not really used to eating that kind of crap frequently, but I could settle."

"Okay. Sounds good. See you at eight."

"Oh, yeah. Do me a favor?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Wear that red dress again."

Though Regina couldn't see it, the woman on the other end of the line was smiling.

* * *

Regina arrived at the diner early, just as she arrived to everything else early, and ordered a hot tea. As the minutes passed, she grew anxious, wringing her hands as she looked down at her watch. Every time the quiet diner bell rang as someone opened the door, she turned to look. When the other woman finally did walk in, she was wearing a very similar dress to the red one she'd been wearing the other night, but in black.

"Hey, listen," she started, sliding into the booth across from Regina. "I'm really sorry about the dress, but the other one was still getting dry-cleaned."

"Oh, I..." the detective started, staring as the woman sat down. "That's... That's perfectly... Um... Fine. You look..."

"A bit silly, yeah. I apologize."

"No! You look stunning. Really."

The woman blushed and looked away just in time for the waitress to walk over to their table.

"Can I get you something, Miss?" the waitress asked the blonde kindly, offering them both a smile.

At first, Emma looked to Regina, and when the woman nodded, she replied, "A burger and fries with a coke would be great."

"And for you, Miss?" the waitress asked, looking at Regina this time.

"I'll just have your house salad, please, with some water," the brunette replied. "Thank you."

When the waitress turned to leave, Emma looked back at the detective and asked, "So why did you want to have dinner with me?"

"Well, it's a little early for... you know... I usually like to engage in that... behavior... somewhat later in the evening. But I wanted to see you as soon as possible. I figured this was the best way to accomplish that. Besides, I'm sure this is the first time a client has taken you out for dinner. But you're a special woman. You deserve special treatment."

"That's ridiculous," Emma replied, then quickly added, "but I appreciate it. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my dear. I appreciate you agreeing to see me again, especially given my... uh... specific tastes."

"You're not the only person who likes it rough," the blonde told her quietly. "You're just the first to ever want  _me_ to hit  _them._ "

"Well, like I said. I'm not everyone."

"That seems to have become very clear."

It was then that the waitress returned with their food, serving each of them what they had ordered.

Emma was more graceful when eating than usual, given the nature of her client, and Regina was just as spectacularly graceful as she always was when doing anything.

"You eat like royalty," Emma finally commented, somewhat staring in awe.

"I eat like a civilized human being, as do you."

"I'm on my best behavior," the blonde told her with a smile, earning a matching one from her client.

"I see that. And are you enjoying the food?"

"Very much so, thank you. I was surprisingly hungry."

Regina hesitated and took a moment to look over the woman's figure, at least what she could see above the table. The woman was particularly skinny, and suddenly, Regina found herself worried that she didn't get enough to eat.

"And do you... do you usually eat this well?" she dared to ask, catching the woman off guard.

"I... Uh... No, not usually," she admitted, then quickly added, "but I have to watch my figure. You know, for clients."

Regina didn't respond. Instead, she took a few more bites of her salad, leaving about half of it left, then looked around the diner, which was nearly empty, except for an older couple in the back. The detective couldn't help but notice just how happy they looked together, and she found a pit forming in her stomach as she thought about the loneliness of her own life, and her desperation for some kind of human connection.

"Regina? You okay?"

"Huh? Yes, I'm fine." Noting that the woman had eaten everything on her plate, she asked, "Are you ready to leave, or do you want to get dessert?"

"Oh, no thank you. Any more food and I think I might burst."

The woman's smile earned one in return from Regina as she rose from her seat and collected her jacket. After approaching the waitress to pay her bill in cash, the two left the diner together and made their way back to the same hotel where they'd had their previous encounter. Once they were both in a room together on the second floor, the blonde began to remove her clothing as Regina sat on the bed and watched.

"You have a beautiful body, you know, but it wouldn't be such a horrible thing if you gained weight," Regina finally told her. "You shouldn't worry about that."

"You think I need to gain weight?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you'd be just as beautiful if you did, so you shouldn't stress about it. You should eat what you want."

"Why are you worried about what I eat?"

"I'm not! I just... I'm concerned."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No! Well... Yes. Sort of. I don't know. Look, the point is-"

She was interrupted by the sound of Emma's laughter.

"I'm fine, Detective. Really."

"Hey. Don't call me that."

"Why? I'm not talking about your job. I'm just-"

"I just don't want to think about that right now, okay? It makes me feel... Ugh. Just forget it."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you. Why don't we get you relaxed a little, okay?"

"I, uh... I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think I could maybe... I mean..."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Nevermind."

With that, the detective quickly removed her clothing and leaned back against the pillows, gently pulling the naked woman on top of her. When Emma straddled her hips, she bit her lip and looked up into her eyes.

"You ready, honey?" Emma asked softly, stroking the woman's hair, earning simply a nod of confirmation, which was all she needed to start the routine she was so used to.


	3. The Investigation

This time, in the middle of their encounter, Regina's hand slipped between the blonde's toned legs.

"Wait," Emma said immediately, grabbing the woman's wrist. "Don't. This is about you, and I-"

"You don't want to feel it too?"

"Look. This is a job for me, okay? I don't like to point it out with my clients, but you need to understand that. This isn't about me. That's not what you're paying for."

"What if I did want to pay for that?"

"You want to pay to please  _me?_  Most people just want to get off."

"I'm not most people. I... I wanna see your face when you come," Regina said softly, reaching up and touching the woman's cheek. "Please. That  _will_ get me off."

After a moment of hesitation, Emma replied, "I'm not easy to please. I don't really get... I... Ah!"

She cried out when Regina's warm fingers pressed firmly against her clit.

"Let me fuck you."

"Yes," Emma gasped as Regina began to slide her fingers in and out, using her thumb to continue rubbing the woman's clit.

To Emma's surprise, she found herself grinding down against Regina's expert fingers.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"Is this okay?" Regina asked, pressing her free hand against Emma's lower back to pull her closer, but not stopping the movements she was making with her other hand.

"Fuck. Regina..."

"Emma, come for me," she whispered, pushing her fingers in harder each time, until Emma came just a few thrusts later, soaking her client's fingers.

"Shit," the blonde breathed, wiping the sweat from her brow as she stared down at Regina. "You're incredible."

"I'm paying you to say that," the brunette laughed, shaking her head. "You were probably faking it."

"You'd know if I was faking. You felt me contract around you..."

Regina's mouth watered as she licked her lips.

"Do I get to fuck you now?" Emma asked sweetly with a smirk.

Regina nodded, saying, "Please." The result of this request left her begging, "Let me see you again. Just one more time," as soon as she came down from her high.

"I really don't think it's-"

"Please. Please, Emma. I need this. I'll pay you whatever you want. I just need this."

"You pay me plenty. It's not that. I'm not trying to extort you. I just-"

" _Please._ "

Her voice was small and weak, which is what convinced Emma to give in.

But it wasn't one more time, or even two or three. It was several, and nearly every other night for the entire month. Given that Regina paid her so well, it was easy for her to decline other clients' offers in favor of the woman who had become somewhat of a benefactor over the past few weeks.

One night, after a particularly difficult day at work, Regina asked something of Emma that surprised the blonde.

"Will you stay here with me tonight?"

"You mean you want to go again?"

"No. I just want... I thought maybe we could... You know... Talk?"

Emma laughed on the inside at first, but the sound burst out of her when she could no longer hold it in.

"You're joking, right? Who wants to  _talk_ to a prostitute?"

"Listen, I just had a really long day, and I..."

"Oh. Shit, I'm sorry. Of course you can vent to me. You did pay for the night, after all. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been rude. I just meant..."

"No, it's okay. But I don't want to talk about me."

Looking confused, the blonde asked, "Then what do you want to talk about?"

"I was hoping we could talk about you. What you like? What you don't like?"

"I like making money, and I don't like being bored. There's not much else to say. I'm not a very interesting person, to be honest."

After a pause, Regina challenged, "I don't believe you."

"Look, I'm really-"

But when Regina gently stroked her cheek, it caught her somewhat off guard, and she found herself staring into the woman's chocolate eyes, nearly falling into them.

"I like... I like to read, too," she finally said. "And I like animals. And..."

Regina wrapped her arms around the woman and pulled her down gently as she pressed their bodies together.

"What else?"

"I was a student at Northeastern, studying law, before this."

"What?" Regina said, shocked, sitting up abruptly.

"What do you mean 'what?' You asked me to-"

"No, I know. I just... What the hell led you here?"

"Not really led so much as pushed and coerced."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's talk about something else, okay? I was hungry. I was broke. I couldn't pay for school anymore. I started this to keep my bills covered and it got out of hand. I still couldn't pay, so I dropped out. Alright? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No. I mean... I wanted to hear the truth."

"Well, that is the truth. It happens. It's over. It's not part of my life anymore. I was just trying to come up with things to say about myself. There's really nothing interesting."

"I think you're very interesting," Regina told her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I can't help it, Emma. I want to know everything about you."

"Nothing to know."

"How old are you?"

"Wow. You're really asking that?"

"I'm not asking to be rude. I was just curious."

"Old enough to know better. Next question?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What?!"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"First of all, that's none of your fucking business. Second of all, you have no idea how hard it is to find anyone who will even consider dating someone in my profession. Third of all, no, I don't. Fourth, what the fuck do you even care?"

"I just-"

"Please don't tell me you're getting jealous. Because if you are, this needs to end right now. I'm here to make money, and if you're-"

"I'm not! I'm not! I swear. Please, don't go."

Regina bit her lip, looking so sad and helpless that Emma felt pity for her, so she relaxed back into the woman's arms and rested her head on Regina's shoulder.

"I'm twenty-one."

"You certainly act more mature."

"Do I look it?"

"Is that a trick question?" Regina laughed. "Women are always sensitive about their age."

"How old are you?"

"I won't tell you that. But you can ask me anything else."

"Anything?"

"If you let the age thing go, then yes."

"Alright. Are you married? I noticed you don't wear a ring, but I didn't know if you just took it off, or..."

"No, I'm not married."

"Dating?"

"No. I barely have time with my job."

"You make time to see me."

"It's a compulsion. It doesn't feel like an option. Especially with you."

Emma blinked a few times before responding.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I've never felt a need so intense in my fucking life. I think about you constantly."

"Fucking, you mean."

"No, Emma. You. Just seeing you."

"What?"

"I..."

"No. Don't. Don't you fucking dare. This is a business arrangement. Don't you fucking tell me that you're... You know what? I can't do this. I'm really sorry, but I just can't deal with clients who have feelings for me. Maybe that's not what you're feeling, but it sure as hell sounds like it, and I really can't take that chance." After gathering her things and getting dressed as Regina stared in silence, she hurried out the door before Regina could even protest, saying only, "Please don't call me."

* * *

 

It was two long months later that Regina sat at her desk at the station, pouring over paperwork, when one of her co-workers dropped a folder on her desk.

"Young woman, about twenty-one or twenty-two, found with her throat cut under a bridge in the red light district," the man announced abruptly. "Looks like she was a prostitute."

Regina's stomach dropped.

"Do we have a positive ID on the victim?"

"No."

"Do we have an idea about the perp?"

"No. That's your job, Mills."

"No, I know that. I just meant..."

"No. We got nada. No one seems to know her, and nobody's talking."

Hands shaking, Regina picked up the folder and stared down at it.

"Well?" the man barked. "Get to work!"

She nodded weakly and waited for him to leave before opening the folder.

The photograph on the inside showed a young woman with blonde hair, throat slashed, whose face was clearly beaten beyond recognition. She was surrounded by a pool of blood.

As soon as she saw the gruesome scene, she picked up her cellphone and died a number she knew by heart.

"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick-" she started, then was cut off by a voice on the other end of the line. "EMMA!" she screamed. "Oh, my God. Thank Christ you're safe."

"What are you talking about?" the woman on the other end of the line asked, clearly confused. "I told you not to call me."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I was trying to respect your wishes, but I..." Regina paused to look around, making sure no one else was in the area, then continued, "Something happened at work, and I thought you might be..."

"Might be what?"

"Hurt."

"What happened?"

"Someone died. A prostitute around your age, with the same length blonde hair."

"Oh, my God. Do you know who it was?"

"If I knew who it was, I wouldn't be calling you!"

"Right, sorry. Um... I think I might... I might know who it is."

"Then you need to get to the station right now."

"Are you kidding? They'll-"

"No. It'll just be me. You don't have to talk to anyone else, but we need any leads we can get to find this girl's killer. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll be right down, within the hour."

"Emma?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you're safe."

* * *

 

As soon as Emma walked through the front door of the precinct and Regina saw her come in, she was unable to contain herself. The brunette checked to make sure she was still alone, then wrapped her arms around the woman, causing Emma's muscles to tense in opposition.

"What are you doing?" the blonde asked anxiously, whipping her head around to survey the room for strangers.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so glad you're safe. I-"

"Hey, listen. I'm just here to help, okay? Let's keep this professional."

"Yeah, of course. Sorry. Come sit down in my office." After the woman followed her and Regina shut the door behind them, she said, "I'm going to have to ask you to look at some very graphic pictures. She's... She's hardly recognizable, but maybe you'll see something that will tell us who she is. She had no wallet on her, no identification."

"Okay."

Regina opened the folder and showed Emma the photograph. The woman covered her mouth at the sight.

"Holy shit," she gasped. "That's Abby. I saw her wear that outfit the day she went missing. We all just thought she ran off with some John, but..."

"She was brutally murdered, Emma, and we need to know anything you can tell us about her and the people she spent time with. Anyone who might have had something against her?"

Emma scoffed.

"Are you kidding? She was a hooker. I think you're the first person who's ever given a shit about what happens to us."

"I do care. I care a lot. So, if you'd be willing to make a written statement, I would really appreciate your help. Anything you can tell us could be helpful to the investigation."


	4. Occupational Hazard

"So, do you know anyone who might have done this?" the detective pressed.

"I mean, theoretically, it could have been any client she was working for. Sometimes, things get out of hand. But..."

"Emma, please," Regina sighed. "If you know something, you need to tell me."

"She was pocketing some of the extra money she was earning instead of giving it to her pimp... He might have been... angry... if he found out."

"Okay. What's his name?"

"Regina, come on. I can't tell you that."

"If he brutally murdered one of your friends, wouldn't you want him put away?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'snitches get stitches?'"

"Yeah, but that's usually applied to... You know... Prison situations."

"Yeah, well, that would pretty much put him in prison, wouldn't it?"

"Hopefully, if we're lucky, and we get enough evidence. You would have to testify against him."

"Are you kidding me? I'd get shot the next day."

"Emma, this is important. Don't let her death be in vain."

"I can't, Regina. I just can't."

"We could put you under protection. We could-"

"No. That's not happening. I'll give you his name, but I won't testify, and it has to be anonymous."

Regina sighed and hung her head in her hands.

"Alright. That's something. Anything helps."

"His name is Johnny Blackmore. He lives in Back Bay. He's about 6' 2," with really pale skin, green eyes, and blonde hair. Late twenties. Kind of a pretty boy, but really buff. Could break me in half by breathing on me. Now, if you don't mind, I have to go, before I'm seen here."

"Emma-"

"Don't. Please, just don't."

"I'm miserable without you."

Immediately, Emma rose from her seat, grabbing her purse off the desk.

"I can't deal with this."

"Please tell me you feel something," the detective pleaded, reaching for Emma's hand.

"I'll write your fucking statement, but I expect you to leave me alone after this. Don't contact me again," she replied, sitting back down in the chair.

Regina said nothing. Instead, she slipped a blank form across the desk in front of her and handed the woman a pen.

* * *

 

Two days later, after discovering that the pimp they were looking for was particularly elusive, another folder was dropped on the desk of Detective Mills.

"Got another one. Same district, same M.O."

This time, Regina didn't hesitate to open the folder. Another blonde, again beaten beyond recognition.

"Get out," she said harshly. "I have work to do."

As soon as the man left and she was alone, she picked up the phone once more. It rang. Over and over and over again, until Regina was sweating.

"Fucking  _pick up_ ," she cursed to herself, until she finally heard the click of the other line. "Oh, thank God. Emma-"

"What now? I told you not to call me!"

"There's been another death. Same M.O. Blonde, like you. I guess our guy is into that. I was really worried about you, and now..."

"Look, I'm fine. Stop calling me. If I'm dead you'll fucking know it because eventually you'll find my name in a folder on your desk."

"Not if no one identifies you and your face is too black and blue to see your beautiful defining features." There was silence on the other end of the line before Regina continued, saying, "You're in danger. We thought this was a one-time thing, but we were wrong. I now think these are serial killings, and I really believe you need to get out of here for a while. Take a vacation, you know? You're the same body type. You're the same age. Same occupation. You're at risk right now, and-"

"You know I can't do that."

"You have to. You're at very high risk for-"

"It's an occupational hazard, okay? That's it."

"Just tell me something. How do you know this guy?"

"He's pretty well-known on the streets. He's a big shot. Got a lot of girls."

"Emma... Is he  _your_ pimp, too?"

"I... I gotta go."

As soon as the phone went dead, Regina cursed, "FUCK," and slammed her fist down on her desk.

* * *

 

Another week with no leads led Regina to dial the woman's phone number again, but this time, she was less distressed.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry for calling, but we're really at a dead-end here. We can't find the guy. I know you said he lives in Back Bay, but-"

"I  _really_ can't talk right now. I gotta go. I'm sorry. I-"

The woman was interrupted by what sounded like the crashing of pots and pans.

"Emma, are you okay?"

"I can't... SHIT."

"Emma?!"

When the woman went silent but the violent noises continued, Regina began to panic.

"Emma, where are you?"

"You  _fucking_ slut!" a man in the background screamed, followed by more angry crashing sounds.

"I can't... Columbus and Chandler! Building on the corner. Apartment five!"

"I'm coming, Emma. Hang tight."

Regina hung up the phone and quickly loaded her gun and shoved it into the holster on her belt, then bolted out the door. When she finally burst into the apartment, she found the man straddling the blonde on the floor, punching her repeatedly. Even from the doorway, Regina could see that the woman's face was already a combination of red, black, and blue.

"HANDS UP, YOU FUCKING PIG," Regina screamed, pointing her weapon at him.

"YOU FUCKING CUNT," he screamed, slamming his fist against his employee's nose. "I'll fucking kill you!"

"All I needed to hear, motherfucker," the armed brunette announced, pulling the trigger three times without hesitation, hitting him twice in one shoulder and once in the other, until the man collapsed on top of the blonde, unconscious from shock.

Regina rushed to her side and dragged the man off of the woman who was gasping for air. Without a thought, she lifted the woman gently into her arms, cradling her head as she looked into the her dripping eyes.

"It's okay, Emma. You're safe now."

Before the woman could respond, she fell unconscious as well, falling completely into Regina's arms.

* * *

 

It was six hours and thirty-four minutes before the woman woke in the hospital. Regina was counting. As soon as she opened her eyes, Regina was at her side, holding her hand.

"It's alright, honey. You're safe. I'm here."

"Regina," Emma moaned, trying to squeeze the woman's hand but finding herself too weak to do so. "He-"

"I'm right here," Regina whispered, leaning in to press her lips to the woman's cheek, without thinking about the consequences of her actions. "And he's going to be locked up for a long, long time. No one's going to hurt you."

"D-Don't," the blonde managed, trying to pull her hand away, but Regina squeezed it tighter.

"Shh," she breathed. "Just let me comfort you."

As tears streamed down her face, Emma stared up at the woman who was leaning over her.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"What? Emma, you have nothing to be sorry for! This wasn't your fault."

"No. I'm sorry I've been so cold to you. I just... I was scared, and I didn't want... I didn't want to feel..."

"I fell in love with you, Emma," Regina sighed. "I know you don't want me, but I don't know what to do."

"I do," Emma sniffled. "I do want you. I just want you."

"I don't want to pay you for sex. I want you to want... I want you to want to have sex with me. I want you to want to be with me. I want to have dinner with you and take care of you and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah. I can't deny it anymore. Not after everything that's happened. I've been dying without you. Not seeing you has been the hardest thing I've-"

"I'm here now," Regina whispered, kissing the woman's lips, "and I'm not leaving."


End file.
